


I Reach For the Light (I Want To Live My Life)

by Wardove



Series: Worlds Collide [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Gen, Post-Game, also still bad at summaries, i still don't know how to tag, kind-of a prologue for something else, less story, more thought-piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wardove/pseuds/Wardove
Summary: Getting back up isn't always a smooth process.





	I Reach For the Light (I Want To Live My Life)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be the prologue chapter of a different story I'm working on, but it refused to flow into the story proper, and the tone shift was just too abrupt, so I debated simply removing it entirely, but I didn't want to do that either. 
> 
> So, here it is, as more of a thought-piece on it's own. (Title is from Skillet's song "I Want To Live")

Some days, Spider-Man doesn't- can't- patrol. 

After everything that happened with Fisk and Martin and Otto and the Devil's Breath and _May_... After all of that even Spider-Man needs to take some time to get back up. He does eventually, of course he does he's Spider-Man, but some days he just can't. And that hurts, but not as much as the visceral memory of bones shifting against themselves with broken edges, the catch of breath from the echo of air wheezing through the hole Otto's claw put into a lung, the dizziness that reminds him of the blackness that ate away at his vision as he continued to lose blood he couldn't spare as he and Otto hurled towards the ground, still fighting. 

It doesn't hurt as much as the memory of his Spidey-sense screaming out seconds before he spotted Martin in the crowd, before heat and a concussion blast threw him away from a man, from so many people, who should not have had to die if only he'd been faster, more alert. The memory of holding the antidote in his hand, and the rushing in his head and the prickling distressed scream of his senses telling him that _she was dying he could stop it right now now now he could_ even as he fell to his knees and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and let the sobs run free. 

Sometimes Spider-Man can't patrol. But even when Spider-Man's hidden from sight, when it's just Peter Parker standing numbly in a doorway for half an hour unable to move either back to the bed or forward into the day for the crashing waves of memories threatening to drown him, even then life goes on. Mary Jane takes him gently by the elbow and sits him at the kitchen table so he can stare vacantly at a bowl of cereal while she types aggressively on her laptop- the burning light of a righteous reporter gleaming in her eyes. Certain days of the week Miles stops by for training, but if it's one of those bad days he simply settles down at Mary Jane's table and pokes Peter with his homework. Sometimes even that doesn't break through the fog, and it hurts. 

Those are the bad days.

Most of the time however, Spider-Man swings about seemingly as brightly and loudly as ever, chattering and cheering and trying to heal his city one web at a time. 

He goes job hunting and also crime hunting, and he helps out at FEAST and he teaches Miles how to move like Spider-Man (but differently, because Peter was always a string-bean and Miles is built far more solidly so he's not quite as smooth with the acrobatics, but he is also _definitely_ more powerful in terms of raw strength, which also means the world is just that much more fragile around him). 

And if some days Spider-Man is a little less loose-lipped with the quips, or he sticks to helping old ladies across the street and finding lost pets and giving lost tourists directions, no-one bothers him about it. If, maybe sometimes, Spider-Man blitzes through the rougher parts of town tearing through the few bastions of Fisk's people, or clusters of Demons still running free with their masks with a silent, single-minded fury, well- the captain certainly won't say anything.

Taking the kid- his protege?- out on patrol is nerve-wracking. Miles rarely gets hit, but that's at least partly because Peter's spidey-sense screams in panic the moment anything is pointed at the younger vigilante, and he might be just a little bit guilty of excessive force in those instances. Miles glowers and grumbles about how he can defend himself, but there's no heat in the words, and there's too many things that hang unspoken between them before they're off again, swarming up the walls and over the roofs, leaving groaning bodies webbed up behind them for the cops to collect. 

Slowly the inhabitants of Rikers (and more importantly, those especially dangerous ones from the Raft) are returned to where they belong, and some of the pain in Peter's heart is eased as he sees more and more people returning to the sidewalks, to the roads, to the shops and to the parks. It's not much, but he can see New York healing, and it works like a gentle salve on his own hurts. 

Seeing the bright gleam of awe and excitement in Miles's eyes when they're at an impossible height and the kid pulls off his mask to truly take in the scene sprawled out below is another warmth that Peter cherishes in his heart. (Pete scolds him halfheartedly for taking off the mask in a quote-unquote-public area, but he knows the feeling of wanting his full vision free to absorb the city from this angle, just listen to the spidey-sense and your surroundings okay kid?).

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a play-through of the game once on youtube, and I'm in the process of re-watching it again for story research purposes (i'd love to play it myself, but I'd need to buy a PS4 RIP), so if I've messed up any of the details... whoops.
> 
> End is kinda abrupt, but I've been sitting on this for... a good few weeks now, so I'mma just... here ya'll go lol


End file.
